I'm usually not one to get star-struck. But I might go a little ga-ga over the mega stars, the Harrison Ford-types, if I see them in person. That's until they go on Jimmy Fallon and make fools of themselves. (Yes, you, Mr. Ford. Not the gentleman I was hoping for. But then again, I'm not always a lady.)
My 18-year-old loves "discovering" her celebrities. Sure she fangirls over Justin Timberlake, but she didn't discover him like she did, say, Benedict Cumberbatch. Who was he five years ago when he played Sherlock on BBC's Masterpiece Mystery? Back then, Cumberbatch belonged to nobody but her. Now look at him, he's a thing! And she couldn't be prouder.
Then there are folks who have no interest whatsoever in a person's celeb status because, well, they're married to one. Or their dad or sister or best friend is one. Familiarity ruins things. I guess being famous is all fun and games until people find out you poop.
But there's one celebrity whose biggest fans are those most familiar with him. Why, it's none other than Santa Claus! His little elves go nuts! Especially Buddy the Elf, with his shameless "I know him! I know him!" declaration. Santa must be something else to get such rave reviews from those closest to him.
I surprisingly came to this conclusion while singing Oh Come, All ye Faithful in church last weekend. It was the part, "sing choir of angels, sing in exultation, sing all ye citizens of heaven above," that got me thinking. Which is good because, just moments before, I was trying to decide whether or not I'd be okay if Jeff had hair all over and wore a ponytail like the Harley biker guy sitting in front of us.
My redeeming thought was this: here we have angels. Worshiping God. Major fans of God. Angels who appear before him day and night for all eternity, seeing firsthand his glory and majesty. They ought to know, right? God must be something else if angels choose to praise him endlessly.
Revelation 5:11 talks about the voice of many angels, myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands of them, all before the One who sits on the throne. There are tons of them, and they're all smitten with God!
And in the Christmas story in Luke chapter 2, there's an angel - perhaps the Buddy-the-elf of angels - who comes down to tell some shepherds that the savior of the world had just been born in Bethlehem. Then in verses 13 and 14, a whole bunch of angels show up. And they all start praising God together: "Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased."
Thinking about such things is a good reminder of God's legit-ness. While we piddle about (I'm a great piddler), there's constant praise happening in heaven right now. It's like one of those memes: "The God of the universe is continuously worshiped and adored by the host of heaven, and I'm all, 'Look, I'm making pancakes!'"
So, this Christmas, while piddling with pancakes, take time to get a little star-struck like the shepherds did that history-making, life-changing night long ago when God put on human clothes. And should he one day get an interview on Jimmy Fallon, I promise he won't disappoint.